


In My Eyes

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friends, Blind Character, Blind Dean, Boys Kissing, Churches & Cathedrals, Friends to Lovers, Gay Castiel, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t know what someone gay would look like. Last he checked, everyone was made up of the same faulty parts, just different wiring.</p><p>There was that word again, different. The one word in the English dictionary that thinly divided he and Cas from the rest of humanity.</p><p>Or the one where it's National Coming Out Day and Dean has a trick or two up his sleeve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Eyes

Dean felt Castiel’s arm stiffen and heard his breath hitch in the back of his throat.

It was inevitable.  Passing those God-fearing signs on the way back from the coffee shop, overhearing those misguided chants—it was hard not to feel the animosity stick to your skin like a disease. It wasn’t unlikely to hear the congregation preach as much, especially on the Sunday that just so happened to fall on National Coming Out Day.

Dean wasn’t gay, but he was well-versed in the art of social leprosy. Once upon a time—when Dad was the appropriate term to call a long-term stranger and his mom imparted a baby boy he’d later refer to as his chubby and aggressively annoying little brother—Dean had a family. Until one day, he didn’t. When he was five, a fire of unknown origin consumed the upper level of his cozy two-level home, leaving behind the ashes of one Mary Winchester and robbed the eldest boy of his sight.

School didn’t make things any easier. He was quiet for the most part, but it was hard to tune out the subdued exchanges from the back of the classroom or the playground or, Heaven forbid, the gymnasium during a crash course in sex education (“How’s he expect to pop his cherry if he can’t even take a piss without holding someone’s hand?”).

What made it worse was that he knew they were right. He knew the state of his condition. He knew the universe left him royally screwed. It didn’t help to be reminded.

Shortly after eighth grade promotion was when he met Castiel. He was different. Not the kind of different that’s ungracefully abetted by a slew of a thousand more suitable words after a first date, but different in that he didn’t care about Dean’s impairment. He saw past the preface and skipped to the first chapter of his book.

The ultimate testament to their friendship came when Castiel got kicked out of his home. The same day that Dean supplied him with a new one was the first time he saw him cry.

In a futile attempt, Dean placed his other hand on what he estimated was his bicep but was actually his elbow. Cas returned him with a faked smile, although he knew Dean couldn’t see it. It wasn’t as if he was a virgin to the things they were saying. Much like his support system, Cas had a hard time grappling the idea that he was somehow, in some way, disconnected from society, like an unraveled seam hanging from a sweater.

He hadn’t realized they stopped moving until Cas whispered, shyly, “You think they know?”

“I think they’d be blind not to notice you.” Dean took a crack at a dopey smile, earning him a punch in the arm. It was amazing how he was still single.

“I’m serious,” he said over the roar of a “ _Fetus for Jesus!”_ chant as some of the rowdy protestors alternated to the Planned Parenthood across the street. “It just seems like I never catch a break.”

If Dean thought high school was torture for him, it was ten times worse for Cas. He has a rough sketch of what his friend looks like from numerous descriptions and “face feel-ups”, as Cas so delicately put it one night, and despite what others claim, he’d never coin him for an obvious homosexual. Then again, he doesn’t know what someone gay would look like. Last he checked, everyone was made up of the same faulty parts, just different wiring.

There was that word again, different. The one word in the English dictionary that thinly divided he and Cas from the rest of humanity.

Before Cas could successfully worry his lips off, Dean pulled him into his personal space and slotted their mouths together, effectively shutting him up. Initially, he’d done it to scare the living Jesus out of the dissenters—pun _definitely_ intended—but when Cas started responding with enough enthusiasm to fuel a diesel, he realized he didn’t want this to stop. So, naturally, he dragged him in by the waist, deepening the kiss.

The complaints of the picketers were drowned in the beautiful sounds being reciprocated. It may have been distastefully ironic, but for the first time in his twenty-odd years of living, there, in the arms of his best friend, Dean Winchester found his one and only salvation.

**Author's Note:**

> National Coming Out Day is on Sunday, October 11. (:


End file.
